Girl With Golden Eyes
by sarjevo
Summary: He was addicted and he didn't even know it. Daryl/OC. Slightly rated M for mentions of suicide. I couldn't think of another title. ONE SHOT


_**6:31 p.m. 2/13/14**_

_**So I was listening to Girl with Golden Eyes bySixx A.M. and I just started writing a story in my head. If I get enough encouragement I'll give this one shot a story. **_

* * *

_**She speak to me in Persian**_

_**Tells me that she loves me, **_

_**the girl with golden eyes**_

_**And though I hardly know her**_

_**I let her in my veins**_

_**And trust her with my life**_

Started innocently enough.

A look across the campfire, a few run ins around the camp and then they actually touched. It was like a live wire. An instant addiction. She was beautiful to him, all long hair and flowing arms. She would hold him, tell him it was all going to be ok when it was so far from that. Between fighting off the dead and the living, Daryl didn't know which to be more cautious of, which to be more worried about. He wanted to believe her, and he coukd when he was in her arms, but that moment was only shared between her and him. No one needed to know what went on behind closed doors - or tent flaps, if you wanted to get technical. Neither of them had made a big deal out of it, just smiled at each other around camp. They barely spoke to each other, even when they were alone.

She ws the care taker of the camp, everyone just assumed she was keeping an eye on him because of how rough and tumble he was always coming back with a new scratch or fresh bruises. She fussed over him as much as she fussed over the children. No one suspected a thing. But it wasn't like they were really trying to keep it a secret, he had just said that he didn't think the group would take him serious with a woman like herself hanging off of his arm. She just assumed that meant secret and kept her distance under the eyes of the group. She didn't even stay in his tent. She went in late at night, left early in the morning.

None the less, she loved him, and he wouldn't admit it, but he loved her.

He was addicted and he didn't even know it.

_**I wish I had never kissed her**_

_**'Cause I just can't resist her**_

_**the girl with golden eyes**_

_**Every time she whispers**_

_**'Take me in your arms, **_

_**the way you did last night.'**_

They got caught by Glenn.

They were in the barn, he had been trying to run off with Nellie again, and were sitting on a bale of hay. He had his left arm curled around her waist, right hand creeping up the side of her lrft thigh and her hands were flat against his chest. She had managed to get him off of the horse, but she couldn't get him off of her and with the way he tasted, she didn't mind. She herself tasted like dirt and bubblegum, rubbing alcohol and whiskey. It was strange, but not unpleasant. Ok, maybe just a little. It wasn't their firat kiss, wasn't their last but it was the best so far.

And Glenn had to ruin it.

He wasn't shocked, ok, maybe a little. He had cleared his throat and his eyes sparkled when they jumped apart. He was grinning ear to ear and she had laughed, her left hand gingerly fluttering on Daryl's chest. She wasn't fazed, but Daryl was slightly flushed, so she shooed Glenn away. Of course he told Dale, and Lori kverheard and she told Rick. Eventually he, Dale, T-Dog and even Shane were giving him wide grins, whistling at the young healer. She though it was funny, Daryl didn't.

But it didn't matter, she never listened to him, she always found a way around his words.

_**Everything will be ok**_

_**Everything will be alright**_

_**If I can get away from her**_

_**And save my worthless life**_

"He won't open his eyes."

"Depression."

"Isn't there something we can do for him?"

"No...he has to work through it on his own."

No one really heard Hershel's words. Carol tried food, Rick tried words, even Carl tried something but Daryl would not open his eyes. He sat in a chair, at the head of their camp, waiting for her to walk back into camp, but she never did. Day in and day out, he sat in that broken lawn chair, crossbow in his lap, listening to everything around him, but he never heard her footsteps. Her voice, the shuffle of her dress, the swish of her hair, the breath from her lungs. All he heard was the people in the group, the groan of an occasional Walker and the crackle of fire, maybe the howl of an owl at night. He slept rarely, ate regularly but he never got out of that chair unless he had to. He just wanted her to come back, even if she was a Walker, at least then he would know she was...safe.

No kne knew why she left, Maggie had just said she saw the young woman walking out of camp late at night and she didn't come back. When confronted, Maggie said it was late and she was barely awake when she had left, there was nothing she could do. She thought she had went to the bathroom or went to the vehicles, she didn't know she was leaving camp.

All the while, Daryl waited.

_**I wake up every morning**_

_**Jonesin' for her love,**_

_**the girl with golden eyes**_

_**I wkn't have to wait long**_

_**'Til she buries me in roses,**_

_**She's always by my side**_

Some nights he wouldn't be bothered, no one in camp would come to him, and he would actually open his eyes. But he wouldn't mind.

"Esther," he murmured one night. "Were you even real?"

She was at his side, bent at the waist to his ear. "Dance with me Daryl," she breathed.

He obeyed, watching her hips sway towards him, and he took her in his arms, doing as she asked. He smiled down at her and she smiled up at him, small hand held gently in his, one of his hands on her waist, her other on his shoulder. Swaying around his chair, the grass making slight noises under his boots, he didn't know he was dancing alone. All he saw was her, golden eyes, black hair and that purring voice. He smiled wider, grabbing a hold of her left hand, letting her twirl away from him before he brought her back and let her flush against his chest.

"Daryl," she breathed against him.

"Esther," he murmured, lips in her hair.

"Let me go, Daryl."

"No."

He tightened his fingers and then he realized, he was dancing alone. He stared at his empty hands, looking around in desperation, sweat dotted on his forehead and he crumbled into the ground. He held his face in his hands, crying silently into the night air. He couldn't do it anymore. He could still hear her, see her, but she wasn't there. Not anymore. He took in a few breaths and stood, taking a moment to steady himself. He stared at the camp for a moment, seeing everyone talking, Carl and Sophia asleep on their mats, and he whispered a small goodbye, reaching into the back of his jeans, pulling out his back up gun.

He held it in his hands for another moment, weighing it then he nodded, letting one small tear slip across the bridge of his nose. The barrel felt cold pressing into the roof of his mouth. He trembled for a long moment, her voice begging for him, but he tightened his fingers. A sharp tang of pain and then it was over, his body was crumbling and everyone was screaming.

_**Everything will be okay**_

_**And everything will be alright**_

_**If I can get away from hrr**_

_**And save my worthless life**_

* * *

_**Please no flames about an OOC Daryl because that was my intentions with the whole thing. **_


End file.
